


Wicked Games

by BeniMaiko



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF Isaac, BAMF Stiles, BAMF!Isaac, BAMF!Stiles, Blood, M/M, Psycho!Isaac, Rare Pair, Sex, Stiles loves Psycho!Isaac, Torture, Violence, blowtorch, stisaac - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeniMaiko/pseuds/BeniMaiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Isaac take out an Omega.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Isaac grasped his karambit loosely in his right hand. His clawed index finger curled through the loop at the end of the grip. His glowing blue eyes flashed in the moonlight that gleamed off the wicked, curved blade.

The older, Omega wolf that was faced off against him had flashing, red, Alpha eyes, but Isaac smiled a toothy grin and waited patiently for an opening. He didn’t have to wait long for the impulsive Alpha to lunge in an attempt to use his larger size against the Beta.

Isaac smoothly sidestepped the clumsier wolf grazing the interloper’s ribs with his knife.

Stiles threw his head back and howled in laughter from his perch atop a tall tree stump. There was nothing he liked better than to watch his graceful mate dancing with an enemy, except being claimed when the dance was done.

The lone wolf was tiring. Blood ran down his body from dozens of slowly healing slices. Isaac could have gutted him in the first few minutes of the confrontation, but where was the fun in that?

Each stumbling attack by the Alpha was slower and clumsier than the one before. Sweat dripped into his eyes, obscuring his vision.

“You pussy. You fight with a knife instead of your claws while your human bitch watches.” The omega was doing his best to make Isaac lose his temper. It wasn’t going to work.

“I don’t like to get _shit_ under my claws.” Isaac answered while twisting away from the attacker with a flourish.

Stiles sighed as he watched Isaac twist and whirl in the moonlit clearing. His soft curls bounced as the lithe wolf arched his back and sidestepped the charging Alpha. It was like watching a matador expertly subduing a bull.

It may seem like Isaac was cruelly prolonging the inevitable death of the Omega wolf, toying with him like a cat plays with a mouse. Stiles knew better. The mouse does not try to invade the cat’s territory, harming innocents and exposing the cat to hunters.

This particular Omega had been given fair warning to leave Hale lands, and he could have escaped unharmed at any point prior to this night. His death warrant had been signed due to his flagrant disregard of the rules of behavior established by the Hale pack and the Argents.

Stiles had nominated Isaac to take care of the problem. It was selfish, really. The human rarely got to see his mate in his full glory.

Stiles and Isaac had garnered a well-deserved reputation among the supernatural for their intolerance of any threat to their pack. Derek was required to keep a pretty tight leash on the bloodthirsty duo.

Isaac stepped under the wildly swinging arm of his opponent, scything his blade in an arc which nearly severed the Omega’s arm.

Stiles could not control the moan that escaped his gritted teeth. He pressed the heel of his hand into his growing erection in an attempt to ease some of the frustrating ache.

There was a time when he had been squeamish about blood. That trait disappeared when Stiles and Isaac became mates. The human quickly associated Isaac’s sanguine artistry with mind-blowing sex.

The younger wolf’s cherubic face lit up with a predatory smile as he scented his mate’s arousal in the air. He was well aware of the effect he was having on Stiles. He quite enjoyed showing off for his lover, but he would not allow the heady perfume of lust to distract him from his fun.

The rogue roared, making a final, desperate strike at the Beta. He stumbled to the ground when Isaac severed his hamstrings in a double flick of the Karambit.

“Do it. Finish me.” He panted from the ground.

Stiles leapt from his seat and approached the fallen wolf. With a gentle sigh, he pulled his handgun from its holster and placed a single, wolfbane round between the Omega’s eyes.

After all, the idea of Isaac as an Alpha was a truly frightening thought.


	2. Derek's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek learns how to handle his troublesome duo.

When Stiles and Isaac first started to spend more time together, to become friends, Derek had been thrilled. Well, thrilled was probably too strong a word for it. It had not made him angry.

Stiles seemed like a happy kid. Despite being a single parent, his father had done an admirable job of raising the boy. The Sheriff truly loved Stiles, and the young human had a very close relationship with his dad.

Stiles was also very tight with his best friend Scott. They said they were as close as brothers and Derek believed it.

With such stable and loving relationships, it seemed like Stiles would be a good role model for Isaac. Derek had hoped that Stiles’ influence on the orphaned Beta would be a positive one.

It wasn’t until their friendship bloomed into romance and mating that Derek realized that he may have misjudged the effect the pair would have on each other.

The older wolf had been correct that Isaac would learn a lot from the relationships Stiles had with the Sheriff and Scott. What Derek had been wrong about was the nature of those relationships.

They were not healthy relationships. Stiles was obsessive in his approach to the people he cared about. Derek knew that Stiles worried about his father’s health, but he had not been aware of the insidious nature of the care.

Even the Sheriff seemed to be unaware of the level of obsession that Stiles had toward him. From the nit-picky control of the man’s diet, to his attempts to bar him from knowledge of the supernatural, Stiles tried to cocoon his father from any harm or stress.

As the younger man failed in the impossible task of protecting the Sheriff from any and all harm, the obsessive behavior escalated.

Stiles put the same amount of effort into his friendship with Scott. It had served the young wolf well in the beginning of his change. Stiles had been the one to teach Scott control. He had become pack to Scott, preventing him from going Omega.

Unfortunately for Stiles, Scott had grown beyond their insular twosome as he had formed romantic relationships and grown into true-Alpha status. Scott would always be Stiles’ best friend and brother, but he just didn’t _need_ Stiles in the same way, anymore.

Derek watched as Stiles turned the focus he had previously reserved for Scott onto Isaac. The human cleaved himself to Isaac with a single minded fixation that was relentless.

And Isaac? Isaac loved it. Isaac reveled in the attention and care he received from his mate. Derek realized that it was the first time in the Beta’s life that he had ever received such unwavering devotion. Even when his mother had been alive, her attention had been split between Isaac and his older brother.

Derek hoped that Isaac would flourish under his mate’s care, and he did. He became more confident. His unwavering trust in the love that he and Stiles shared allowed him to bare his true personality.

It was a shame that his true _self_ was a psychopathic killer. Years of abuse at the hands of his father had warped him beyond repair. Only his self-doubt had kept him from acting on his more primal urges. Now, he no longer had those doubts to restrain him.

The only thing that swayed his behavior was the opinion of his mate. Stiles.

And Stiles? Stiles loved it. Stiles thought Isaac was ‘glorious.’ Derek could tell that in Stiles’ case, love was truly blind. He could find no fault with Isaac.

So, Derek did what he had to do. He used Stiles’ zealous loyalty to benefit the pack. The older wolf whispered in Stiles’ ear.

_A safe Beacon Hills is a safe Sheriff. The pack protects Beacon Hills. The pack protects the Sheriff. The pack protects Scott. The pack protects Isaac._

Stiles and Isaac were encouraged to eradicate threats to Beacon Hills. Usually, it was outside forces that needed to be disposed of. Rogue wolves who could not be deterred from the territory disappeared. Curse wielding witches were never seen again.

When word spread among the supernatural community that a certain small town in northern California was off limits, Isaac and Stiles would take road trips. Beacon Hills had been free of rapists and child abusers for almost 18 months, and now the neighboring towns had dwindling crime rates.

Derek found it difficult to worry about the somewhat high number of missing person reports that landed on the Sheriff’s desk.


	3. Scott's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott knows what real monsters are.

Alison dropped down into the chair next to Scott at the lunch table, startling the young werewolf.

“Aren’t they adorable together?” She murmured looking at the couple Scott had been blatantly watching.

Scott could feel the bile rising in his throat. “Uh. Yeah. Adorable.” He gave his girlfriend a watery smile.

To an outside observer, Stiles and Isaac were adorable. Isaac had the face of an angel with a wide, disarming grin and big, blue eyes. Stiles had an easy smile for everyone, a puckish nose, and bright, amber eyes that always seemed filled with mirth.

Today, they were sitting together at lunch, giving each other small pecks on the cheeks, cuddling, and whispering together. Every once in a while one or the other would throw his head back in laughter, his face filling with joy.

Most of the pack knew what Stiles and Isaac were really like, but not Alison. Scott had not wanted to lie to his girlfriend, but she did come from a family of hunters. If the Argents found out what the pair had been doing, it would be bad.

The Argents could decide that Stiles and Isaac were too dangerous to be ignored. They would try to hunt the duo. They would probably not succeed. In Scott’s opinion, the hunters would stand no chance.

If Stiles and Isaac decided the Argents were a threat, it would be a bloodbath. It would put Kate Argent’s slaughter of the Hale family to shame. There would be no survivors, not even Alison.

So, Scott kept his mouth shut.

“Aaaawwww. Look how sweet they are, Scott. It’s like watching kittens cuddle in a basket. They are the cutest couple ever.” Alison cooed in Scott’s ear.

Scott thought he was gonna be sick. Alison couldn’t hear the things Stiles and Isaac were saying to each other. As she went on and on about how wonderful it was that their friends were so happy together, so wonderful and sweet, Scott’s enhanced werewolf hearing picked up every word the couple shared.

_I need it, Stiles. Tonight, please, I want to skin him alive. Hmmm? Can I do that? Can I flay the hide off the wolf for you?_

Scott buried his face in Alison’s hair, trying to block out the whispers.

_Oh God, yes, Isaac. He’ll scream so pretty for you. Won’t he, baby? He’ll scream and beg for you to kill him quickly, but you won’t. Will you?_

Scott pushed the remains of his lunch away. He swallowed dryly, trying to hold down the nausea that threatened.

_He doesn’t deserve our mercy, Stiles. He broke your rules. You know what’s best for this town. You know what’s best for the pack and for me, don’t you? Are you gonna let me have what I need?_

Goose bumps broke out on Scott’s skin at the desperate tone of Isaac’s voice. “Come on Alison. Let’s go to the library.” The young Alpha needed to get his mate away from the psychotic pair.

_Yeah, baby. After you peel his skin, while he hopelessly tries to heal himself, I’ll give you just what you need. I’m gonna show you how proud I am of you. God, Isaac, I’m gonna fuck you so hard. Are you my good boy? Will you cum with just my cock up your ass? Will you cum untouched for me, baby? I want that to be the last thing that son-of-a-bitch sees before I put a bullet between his eyes._

Scott pushed Alison toward the cafeteria doors in his urgency to get out of earshot.

“Hey, do you want to ask Stiles and Isaac to double date with us tonight?” Alison asked.

Scott tried not to flinch. “No, uh, I think they already have plans.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw Stiles looking right back at him with a smile on his lips.

He smiled back at his supposed best friend. He had become an expert at pretending nothing was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheriff POV

There were blood stains on the tee-shirt in the Sheriff’s hand. Rusty red blotches where the fabric was stiff and brittle. The hemline and the right sleeve of the shirt were the most stained, but there were small splatters across the entire front of the garment. 

The graphic tee had started out dark brown, and if Stiles had bothered to even rinse it out before putting it in the laundry, his father would probably have never noticed the blood. The Sheriff gripped the fabric tight in his fist as tears began to flow down his lined face.

The man was not worried that his son had been injured. He knew the blood didn’t belong to Stiles. He didn’t cry in worry for his son. He wept in the knowledge that even as a man of the law, he would not do anything to stop his son.

This wasn’t the first time John had found incriminating evidence of Stiles’ activities, but he had denied the pattern for as long as possible.

The first time Stiles had stayed out all night, the Sheriff assumed he was with his boyfriend, Isaac. He’d sat his son down and had ‘the talk’ with him. He’d explained how he just wanted Stiles to be safe and happy, that he and Isaac needed to use protection, etc.

Stiles had looked at his father and nodded agreement. He had smiled at the Sheriff and promised to be careful. He had not blushed or been embarrassed at all. John had begun to have his first doubts that he knew what his son was actually up to at night.

If three times was a pattern, what was five, six, a dozen or more times? It didn’t take long for the veteran lawman to correlate Stiles’ overnight absences with the cases that wound up on his desk.

Missing persons, John Does, and mutilated corpses were occurring with alarming frequency in Beacon County and the surrounding towns. At first, the Sheriff was worried that another officer would call in for help from the state or even the Feds, but that never happened.

As the cases were reported and investigated, it became clear that the so called ‘victims’ deserved what had happened to them and more. A known rapist was found with his severed cock shoved up his own ass. The body of a man who beat his wife and kids was found with every bone in his body broken. A woman who had been poisoning her children for attention was forced to eat an entire box of rat poison.

The other Sheriffs and Police Chiefs that John communicated with were happy to do the minimum required by their positions to pursue ‘justice.’ Once a few details of the cases were made known, even the victim’s own families were hesitant to put pressure on the police to solve the crimes.

From the laundry room, John could hear his son and Isaac laughing as they played video games. It was late afternoon, and the couple had slept in after going to bed shortly before dawn. The Sheriff knew what time the boys had fallen asleep, because he had been awakened by a call from the department. Another animal attack victim was found just inside the county line. The dead man had apparently had the misfortune to run across a hungry mountain lion while on the run for sexually molesting his step-son. 

The Sheriff straightened his shoulders and roughly wiped the tears from his face with one calloused hand. He glared at the blood soaked shirt in his fist.

It wasn’t the first incriminating article of clothing that the Sheriff had found. The older man had taken to burning bits of wood and old rags in a fire pit in his back yard. Fire was the best way he knew to destroy evidence.

He really should put the shirt in his hands on the burn pile, but it was one of Stiles’ favorites. John filled a bucket with cold water and put the shirt in to soak.

It looked like the Sheriff was going to have another talk with his son about being careful. Whether it was because his son and Isaac were having sex or… doing other things, Stiles’ dad wanted him to be safe and happy.


	5. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter spreads dissent and underestimates the boys. More graphic than previous chapters.

Peter could not understand why his nephew was so determined to shut down his ideas. “I don’t care if he’s a True Alpha. The Hale pack shouldn’t have to share territory with some half-grown pup who doesn’t respect you or your family.” The older Beta complained.

He had been pissed for days, since the young Alpha had disrespected him at the first pack meeting he’d attended since returning to town. He had completely disregarded Peter’s valuable opinions. Peter was a born wolf. Scott was _bitten._ Peter was a mature man in his thirties. Scott was a _teenager._ The younger man had no right to treat Peter like that just because he was a True Alpha.

The taller man shook his head. “Just shut up about it, Peter. Don’t cause trouble. Scott and I work well together and the pack is comfortably integrated. If you didn’t want him to belong on Hale territory, _you_ shouldn’t have bitten him in the first place.”

The Beta narrowed his eyes at Derek. “That’s right. I bit him. If I don’t want him here, I should have the right to either get him to leave or _dispose_ of him as I see fit.” It was clear that Derek simply did not see that the younger Alpha was a threat to Hale power.

His nephew made a small, strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Shut up Peter. Just shut up.”

The older wolf followed Derek’s stare to where the puny human, _Stiles,_ was standing in the open loft door, glaring at them.

His nephew certainly reacted strangely to seeing the boy listening in on their conversation. Of course, the teen was friends with the upstart Alpha, Scott. There was the chance that he would run to tell the other boy what he had heard; to warn him.

Peter would simply make sure the teen knew to keep his trap shut.

The older wolf was surprised by how easy it was to stalk Stiles. The boy had a daily routine where he was always either with other people or locked in his house. School, lacrosse practice, fool around with Isaac, and homework were followed by bed. For the three days Peter shadowed his every move, Stiles’ actions did not vary.

The opportunity to have a quiet moment alone with the boy came on the fourth day. After leaving the school, Stiles drove to the warehouse district and parked his Jeep outside of what appeared to be an abandoned building.

Peter was confused. What business would the young man have in this area? Surely Derek or Scott would not have assigned the weak, soft human a task for the pack which would require him to be here. The Sheriff seemed to give his son more autonomy than was typical for a high school student, but even he would likely disapprove of his only child being here.

Stiles pulled a large pair of lock cutters out of the duffel bag he carried and made quick work of the chains holding the doors closed. Peter watched with deep curiosity as the boy flicked on a flashlight and made his way into the darkened interior of the building.

Peter followed Stiles’ scent through the building. Adrenaline was the primary component of the smell. Whether it was from excitement, fear, or lust, the wolf had no way of knowing.

Stiles was standing in the middle of a large storage space when Peter sauntered into the room. “Hello, Stiles.” He spoke into the silence. He expected the boy’s heart to race or to see him flinch. Instead, Stiles turned slowly and smiled at him. The child clearly had no sense of self preservation.

“Hi, Peter. I’ve been waiting for you.” What? What was that supposed to mean. Peter’s head whipped around at the sound of the heavy, metal door behind him sliding shut.

The young Beta, Isaac, had joined them in the room. He was grinning wide and leaning his long body back against the door.

Before Peter could turn back around to face the human, stars burst behind his eyes and blackness overtook him.

He could hear muttered words and whispers before the rest of his senses came back on line. Then he could smell blood and wolfbane. Then he felt the pain. Peter screamed and thrashed against his bonds, but it was useless.

The wolf forced his eyes open.

A naked, blood spattered Beta-form wolf straddled Stiles lap with his back toward Peter. The older Hale could see where the human’s hard length plunged into the wolf’s body. Bloody hands gripped the wolf’s hips, guiding him up and down the glistening cock.

Isaac’s head was thrown back and his spine was arched as he reached behind himself to grasp his own ankles. He was being speared repeatedly by the thrusts of the boy beneath him. He howled.

Peter could not see the wolf’s face, so he glanced at the human.

Stiles grinned at him, staring him in the eyes. Peter flinched when the boy winked.

“Fuck, Isaac. You feel so good, baby. You’re so tight for me, so perfect.” Stiles bucked his hips harder.

“It’s OK, sweetheart. Come for me. I want to feel your hot cum on my skin, Isaac. Be a good boy.” Stiles urged on the wolf who was riding him.

“Too soon, Stiles.” Isaac panted. “Don’t wanna, yet.”

Stiles pulled his eyes from where they were boring into Peter’s and smiled at his lover. “No, babe. We can do it again. We have all weekend. By Monday we’ll be covered in our cum and the blood of our enemies.” The wolf howled again.

“If you cum for me, untouched, I’ll let you use the blowtorch on the traitor. You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby?” Stiles groaned.

Peter couldn’t see the wolf’s dick, but he could see the thick ropes of white that shot across the human’s chest and neck as Isaac howled his release. Stiles thrust a few more times and shuddered with his own orgasm.

“Good boy. Good boy.” Stiles reassured his lover as they separated.

Peter could see the human’s spunk running down the back of Isaac’s thighs as he bent over the duffel bag to pull out the blowtorch.

He began to scream when the flame from the lit torch burnt across the skin of his chest.

He could only choke on his own blood when Stiles cut out his tongue and held it up in front of him.

“No more spreading dissent, traitor.” Stiles hissed.

Peter blessed the blackness when it overtook him again.

He could hear muttered words and whispers before the rest of his senses came back on line.

“So good for me. So beautiful.” Peter heard, accompanied by the wet squelch of bodies joined together.

He screamed and screamed and screamed.


End file.
